Arabesque
by TheHamsterInMyMind
Summary: [Oneshot] A music box can hold many secrets. [Implied KyouHaru]


**AN: **This in from Kyouya's POV and is introspective (hopefully), but it focuses around the entire host club, and well, people in general. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran... though I wish it very fervently. It belongs to Bisco Hatori.

**Arabesque**

His sister had been the one to give him that fragile music box, a perfect, rectangular, clear glass box with a delicate silver frame. Flowers, roses and lilies he thought, were engraved on the top, and it stood on four spindly legs, vine-like extensions of the frame. Inside stood a porcelain figurine, a ballerina in a flawless 'arabesque' position, forever held in that stance, continually spinning, dancing on her special platform, her special stage. It was beautiful really. He hated it, but was in awe of it. Did that make any sense? It was one of the few gifts he did not rid himself of after the allotted amount of time.

In fact, the piece had its own honored place on his mantel, silent and pure, even though he took it down from time to time to study it…

When he had received it at the "tender age" of eleven from Fuyumi, he had hated it because it had reminded him of his own situation as the third son of the wealthy and influential Ootori family, stuck inside four glass walls and continually performing at his parents' - particularly his father's - beck and call. He was isolated within barriers that were so fragile yet so impossibly unbreakable, and it frustrated him to no end. The only temporary relief he had was his sister.

Over time, as he grew older, he began to see and understand that it wasn't only him, but people in general who were each stuck in their own special glass box, their own little music box. At least, that was what he saw in the level of society that he could rightly claim as 'his.'

The host club members were perfect examples of his theory. Hunni, despite his childish appearance and an amazing sweet tooth, had also suffered from being trapped within a traditional, martial arts family. He was the family's pride and joy, a judo prodigy, but he was also their greatest disgrace in a way with is unmanly looks and voice and penchant for sweets and stuff animals. Mori, his cousin, was bound within his blood with a duty to said cousin. Despite the fact that their grandparents had been married, the Morinozuka family would remain under the shadow of the Haninozuka family, and really, he didn't mind being the boy's loyal guardian and friend, but one could also suffocate in a position like his if he or she wasn't careful enough. The Hitachiin twins, Hikaru and Kaoru, had always lived in their own world, a glass box, and they acknowledged this barrier, even embraced it. He could understand their reasoning, but he didn't tolerate it. He himself recognized these walls, and while he hated them, he also utilized them to his advantage.

Sometimes, a few people manage to become close enough that their boxes managed to merge together like the way two bubbles would, carefully, cautiously, and faultlessly. This was the case for Hunni and Mori, and the twins, well, it seemed liked their boxes had always been perfectly joined, were destined to be joined. Many times, however, people only manage to come into brief contact, if any in fact is made, to interact for an instant before moving on. The glass boxes would merely glance off one another. These were shallow, worthless relationships to him.

Then there are those who come close enough, just close enough to crack some of your glass, letting in real, non-refracted light, the type where there is actual warmth and feeling, but then, they pull away suddenly without caring, leaving behind only a dull-edged pain, a few broken pieces, and a scarred area where the glass is built back even thicker than before, in a darkness deeper than before.

There are those within their glass chambers who learn to live with the people watching them by making the glass reflect to the rest of the world only what they want the world to see, an illusion cast on see-through walls to shield the inner self from such scarring.

This was how they lived their lives until everything changed one day with the arrival of the first person he had ever met with no walls, someone who was completely free, although not completely happy, but he was still, at the very least, free. Tamaki, being the brilliant yet obtuse person that he was, did not notice this fact or these walls. That was why, when he had heard the blonde's words that day, he couldn't help but laugh. He had finally been given a taste of life outside those glass walls. However, Tamaki by himself, even with the pulsing life and magic that he radiated, couldn't completely break the walls that held everyone in. He could only reach in and pull everyone closer, tighter. He weakened the glass.

Haruhi, however, had the stubborn strength and insight needed to shatter everyone's walls… to free those trapped since birth from their personal prisons. She was the second person he met without walls, or maybe, that was normal for commoners? He watched on as she broke through the precious, cursed barriers of the host club one by one, but when she finally reached him, he was still skeptical that even _she_ could free him from the thick shielding around him that hardly let any light through. He was therefore surprised when she not only liberated him but also captured his heart, one long darkened by the lackluster light of his prison.

It was nice to finally breathe fresh air. It was even nicer to finally have a person that he didn't need to hide from or perform for.


End file.
